Long Term
by Shin Willow
Summary: Xander can think long term.
1. 1

Title: Long Term

Author: Shin Willow.

Spoilers: Finale

Category: Drama

Rating: R

Summery: Xander can think long term.

* * *

Long Term

Xander stood on the terrace of his hotel room staring out at the ocean of city lights. Out there somewhere his friends had checked into some fleabag motel. Probably booking up every room in the joint. Xander half wondered how they paid for the rooms. Maybe Giles, ever practical, had the forethought to have his credit cards on him before Sunnydale turned into the world's biggest cork? Well, Xander had his credit cards, but he booked the room three weeks ago.

Xander sensed his pardner in crime swirling around in the air and had to smile. The urge to rub it in could not be denied. "That went about as well as could be expected," he said.

"That," the disembodied voice spat, "was a debacle!"

"If you wanna be all negative, not seeing the silver lining, the cup half empty--"

The First suddenly flared into the visible spectrum, appearing in the empty form of its former, now very dead, right hand man, Caleb. Xander guessed that was supposed to piss him off, what with the eye and all, but he just sort found it amusing. The guy had been a waste of time and effort in Xander's opinion. The First's anvil-like attempt to swing its metaphorical dick. Well, Caleb was a dick, all right. A big one, and probably the only one in existence that didn't get the job done. He was supposed to get Buffy to the point a whole lot quicker than he did. It was touch and go there if Xander was going to have to make another one of his oh-so-useful comments again.

"Stop it! I will not allow you to mock me after you have failed so miserably!"

"I didn't fail, you got exactly what you wanted, didn't you? The board's all set for your big arrival."

"But the Hellmouth was going to be my base of operations, my unlimited power source. I could have fed from it forever!"

"Bitch, bitch, bitch is all you ever do."

"How dare you!"

"Look, there's another one in Cleveland, dude. Relax."

"I will not relax, you idjit! Sunnydale's Hellmouth was the most powerful ever to exist--"

"How was I supposed to know Angel would come riding in on his white horsy? Blame that law firm, which, I might add, was supposed to be on your side."

"There are no sides, you should know that by now."

"Whatever. Still not my fault. I got you this far like I promised I would," Xander said. "You got, like, a thousand Slayers out there all ripe for the picking. So go corrupt to your hearts content already."

"But she was supposed to die!"

"Again, not my fault. You're the one who had to get all nah-nah-nah-nah-nah, not me. You should know better at your age. Sheesh, bad guys and gloating. It's called class, buddy, get some."

"You've forgotten who you are talking to, Alexander," the First said, trying to sound all threatening. _Talk about your empty threats_, Xander mused. Xander turned to the apparition, a sneer twisting his lips. He was really getting sick of the intangible fucks uppity attitude.

"I'm the one who allowed you to enter this realm, asshole. Don't you forget I can send you back."

The First, still wearing Caleb's appearance, hiked up that very square chin and said: "Not now you can't. It's only a matter of time before I gain a real foothold on this plane, and I will before you gather the energy to do anything to me.

"And if you do try maybe your friends would like to know about your extracurricular activities."

Xander stared at the First for a brief moment before breaking up with hoots of laughter. "Oh, yeah, they'll really buy that, Casper!"

"They might if I tell them about all your schemes and playing both sides against the middle."

"Give it up, Intangible Lad. I was playing these games years before you came on the scene. Fuck, you couldn't even get Angel, Angel, the guiltmeister himself, ta off himself. Which, I might add, was so not in your job description." Xander shook his head. "God, you are so fuckin' useless. You haven't succeeded in accomplishing one single goal on your own. While I kept the ball rolling."

"I--"

"Suck. Yeah, I know." Xander left the terrace and re-entered his hotel room, where it was warm. The cable connected TV murmuring softly with the sound turned down. The First was waiting inside.

"Do not underestimate me, mortal."

Oh, so it's mortal now? Looks like somebody got back on their high horse. "What's there to underestimate?"

Xander threw himself on his bed and reached for the remote on the nightstand beside the bed. He clicked through ten channels before the First (obviously steaming hot after watching Xander ignore it) went off. "You think you're untouchable, Xander, but you ain't."

Bored already with the conversation, Xander asked very disinterestedly, "Oh, yeah?"

"Yes. I have proof of what you've done."

"Nothing they won't chalk up to horny, jealous teenage behavior. You're talking about the," Xander held up his hands and curled the fore and middle fingers on both hands, "Big Lie, right?" When the First sagely said nothing, Xander continued. "Or maybe you're gonna tell them all about how I set them up at the vineyard, and to make myself look totally innocent I let ol' Jesse Custer make jelly out of my eye." Xander looked at the First and grinned, bouncing on the bed and, excitedly asked, "Ooo, can I be there when you tell em'? Pretty please?" Then Xander let his giddy expression drop and returned his gaze to the TV. "Idiot."

"This is not--"

"Over. You'll rue the day. Foiled again! Fuck. Off. Now—before I do something you'll regret for the rest of eternity."

When the First Whiner left Xander sighed and turned off the TV and settled down on the bed. All things considered the plan went through without a hitch. His plan, anyway. True, Buffy was supposed to die, but in the end her living status was not that big a deal. Xander had to admit he was actually sorta glad she'd live to see the end result of all his planning. Of course, if the opportunity arose to finally send her back to heaven, well, Xander was all too happy to make it happen. After all, he did like cleaning up his own messes. A god should have that kind of work ethic.


	2. 2

Title: Long Term

Disclaimer: Don't own nothin' like BtVS.

Summery: Somebody has a god complex.

* * *

Long Term

Xander likes coming here just for the sheer perversity of doing so. It's not like he can really see what exists here, his having been excommunicated from all things pure and heavenly. All Xander can decipher of this place is shifting colors and bright flashes of light as the reality surrounding him moves out of synch with him—everything except Anya. She's wearing the latest heavenly style: a chaste ankle length sundress and no shoes. Her hair is back to its natural chestnut brown, and shoulder length. She's glowing and quite beautiful. Heaven agrees with her.

* * *

She never once believed she'd wind up here. Anya--once known as the uber vengeance demon, Anyanka--wasn't surprised when Buffy sang out she was in heaven after her death the summer before. Good people generally end up in a bliss dimension, and those who went about jauntily doing evil always got tossed head first into one of a thousand hell dimensions. Anya always knew she'd be packing for hot weather when she died. Even after being turned human, she was well aware she'd have to pay for the countless acts of vengeance she imparted on the behalf of her clients and for the pleasure of the Lower Beings. Then she reclaimed her demon-y status and caused even more misery and death. Anya was firmly steeped in the belief she would never see the inside of the proverbial "Pearly Gates".

Yet, here she was, accepted into heaven by the warmest, purest light. It was because of her willingness to help during the latest apocalypse. That went over really well with higher beings. And she never would have gotten the chance if not for Xander.

Here's the thing about being dead and in Heaven--you are exposed to certain truths. And the truth is Xander is the greatest evil to ever walk the Earth. He had all the higher powers scrambling to consolidate their resources in order to survive his plans. Anya had no idea what to believe of her almost husband. She wanted to hold on to the notion he was still a good man, but she was made aware of too many of his cruelties, and of his ruthlessness. It was the only sadness Anya carried in Heaven. So when Xander came and called for her, Anya went to him. Needing to understand what happened to him. What put him on the path to madness? And maybe, just maybe, Anya could help him to see what he wanted was wrong.

"Hey, Ahn," Xander greeted, smiling his perfect smile. The one Anya fell for because it seemed so open. He was still short his left eye, a black eyepatch covering the empty socket. It chills Anya to the bone to know its loss was something he orchestrated. Xander wore his black three-piece suit and a black overcoat over it. His wingtips, also black, shined from what looked like a fifty-dollar polish.

Xander wrapped his arms around her in a tight, intimate embrace. Almost like he had feelings for her. Was he trying to make her believe that? Anya so wanted to, but she hung loosely in his arms; there was no reason she shouldn't believe anything he said or did wasn't some pre-calculation towards his own gain. Xander pulled away, that big, boyish smile still on his face.

"Xander..." Anya started, searching his face for some indication of corruption. She couldn't find any. But it was there, only Anya was too blind to see it, and always would be. Whatever forces responsible for doling out forgiveness Anya prayed to them because she loved Xander Harris now more than ever.

"It's okay, Anya. They'll let you off the hook. This place really brings out the good vibrations in everybody. That's why it's called Heaven."

Anya blinked at Xander. "How did you know...?"

Xander shrugged then raised his right hand and gently brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek. "Wouldn't have gotten this far if I didn't know how to read those around me, would I?"

Anya jerked away from Xander and stared up at him with hurt eyes. "Keep your hands to yourself, Xander Harris! Don't think I'm buying this concerned act of yours anymore! You... you..." Anya's voice trailed off. Xander watched her with obvious amusement in his eye. His smile knowing and wicked. Anya sighed and said, "To think, when I first met you I didn't think you had any ambition."

Xander laughed and pulled Anya in to another hug. "You like it up here?" he asked. Anya couldn't answer right then--she began to sob against his chest. "Anya. Come on, Ahn, I thought you'd be happy."

"Why?" Anya asked taking her face away from his chest, gazing up at Xander.

"There was no reason you should go to hell," Xander stated stoically.

"Translation: helping me stay out of hell in no way hindered your ultimate goal, so what the heck!" Anya said growing a bit cold herself, and she tried to wrench herself out of Xander's arms. But his embrace tightened and he didn't let her go.

"Getting to the heart of the matter as usual. I'm gonna miss you."

Anya stopped struggling and stilled. She could have sworn she heard regret in his voice. Maybe he can be reached. "Please, Xander, it's not too late. If you stop what you're doing right now they'll forgive you!"

"I don't want their forgiveness. They should be crawling to me, begging for my forgiveness."

"Xander..." Anya began crying again. Didn't he understand what he gave up to pursue this insanity? "If you fail--even if you succeed--you'll never know peace. The peace you've given me."

"This place," Xander turned his eye upward and swiveled his head about before settling his gaze on Anya again. "This place is nothing to lose compared to what I'll become."

"Xander--"

Xander laid a soft kiss on Anya's unsuspecting lips then let her go. "For what it's worth, I did love you. A lot. Or as much as I was capable of loving," he said. Xander turned from her and walked away. Slowly being swallowed up by the portal he constructed to breech Heaven itself.

"Wait, Xander... what made you this way? Why are you so angry?"

Xander stopped and turned to Anya to answered her. "The truth? Those worthless beings you think are so righteous are no better than the Lower Beings you used to work for. Just as cruel, just as petty. They'll lie to you and use you to benefit their stupid games. To them, the best we can hope to be is slightly useful pawns. I'm just trying to return that sentiment."

"But the terrible things you've done! To Buffy, Dawn--god--to Willow and Giles..."

"Whoa, actually sounds like you cared about them, Ahn. Oh, right the whole purity of heaven thing you got going on. Neato."

Anya flinched at Xander's sarcasm. The hardness in his expression, a harshness she only saw reserved for the likes of Spike, or Angel. The biting remark hurt Anya more than she was prepared for. Not that he said something untrue, or totally out of line. Anya hadn't appreciated Xander's friends--people she could have gotten closer to if not for her own repressed disdain for humanity--until it was too late.

"You're right," Anya whispered. "You gave me another chance to change, Xander, and I'll always be grateful..."

"But?" Xander asked, grinning.

"You've killed people they loved."

"I never killed anyone," Xander countered smoothly.

"Not with your own hands, but you manipulated events so they did die."

"Mmm. There's no denying that."

"So you've become just like them. You turned into something you claim to hate so much."

Xander nodded. "For the moment. Not forever. Bye, Anya."

"Wait."

"Anya, as much as I enjoyed seeing you, I am on a timetable here."

"Okay. Just... where is Tara?"

"What does it matter?"

"Don't you think whatever pain you needed to put Willow through it's enough? Why are you keeping Tara from coming here? What could you possibly gain?"

"I guess I can understand why you'd suspect me. I had her killed and all, but her not being here isn't my work."

"But you know whose it is."

Xander shrugged. "Sure."

Anya closed her eyes for a moment then opened them. "Please, tell me."

"Osiris. He was royally pissed after Wills tried to tell him his bidness. So he placed Tara in Purgatory to punish Willow for her hubris. She shouldn't go around leaning on demi-gods like that." Xander shook his head. "Neeever a good idea."

Anya bowed her head and stared down at the lush carpet of grass around her feet, her eyes owlish. "Osiris," she said to herself. "How can we get her back?"

"You can't."

"It's not right! She deserves to be here more than anyone I know!"

"True that. But Osiris pretty much does what he wants, and none of the higher beings care enough to stop him."

Anya lifted her head and glared at Xander, new tears streaming down her face. "And what about you? Huh? You're so much better?"

Anya took a step back, fear shooting through her when Xander's entire demeanor, no longer lazy and teasing, changed. His manner became electric with power and menace. Reminding Anya of one of D'Hoffryn rampages.

"I will be," Xander said through gritted teeth. His dark pupil dilated and burned with quiet, seething rage. "Once I become God—not a god, or the god of--the one true God, no one will defy me. My will, my ideal, will become absolute Law. Even demi-gods like Osiris will bow to me!"

Suddenly, Xander seemed to pull back in on himself, reasserting his calm facade. He threw back his head and released a deep round of chuckles then faced forward, bringing his right hand up to his face and rubbed his forefinger under his nose. Smiling impishly at Anya, Xander said, "Wow. That was melodramatic, wasn't it?"


	3. 3

Title: Long Term

Disclaimer: Don't own nothin' like BtVS.

Spoilers: AtS: Peace Out and Home

Summery: Xander's ready to show his hand…

* * *

Long Term: Fifteen Minutes

Xander sat back in a tilt and swivel with his heels kicked up on top of the desk, the shine on his black Pradas catching a glint. His pant legs drifted a few inches above his ankles, exposing his black and blue argyle socks. The sleeves of his white button-up was rolled up to his elbows, his tie was tossed over his left shoulder. In his hands he lazily shuffled a full deck of cards, stopping occasionally to flip one, two, then three over in quick succession, noting the characters before placing them back on top of the deck and shuffled again. So far he was a hundred for a hundred in predicting all three cards. Reality precognition, a minor talent Xander possessed, while using his blue backed Bicycle deck always soothed him. He remembered the first time Silas, his handler appointed by the Powers That Be, introduced him to the bevy of his new, wondrous abilities as a Last Liner. Out of all of them, precognition had to be his favorite.

The surety precognition provided at times was the only thing he could depend on: not manipulating realities, or dimension hopping, not even time travel. Future predicting to a thirteen-year-old (seeing the steps ahead of you before you even thought of taking them, picking and choosing what did and didn't happen to you) was beyond cool. Xander had more control over his life than any child had any right to. He could get anything he wanted by running scenarios past his prescience to find the right way to ask for, or take, what he needed. Of course he never abused his powers. No, Xander couldn't do that. Had to be responsible. Had to be an upstanding, straight-laced champion for the Powers.

Nine of Clubs… Three of Diamonds… Four of Hearts… Sha-zaam! Shuffle.

Xander sat way back in a not so abandoned warehouse in Vancouver. His desk was against a concrete wall and between tall metal stacks crammed from top to bottom with old machine parts. A labyrinth of similar stacks filled the space of the warehouse, most holding auto parts never to be exported after the company that assembled them went under in the early nineties. A naked 60-watt light bulb hung from a threadbare cable above Xander's nook, and it was the only light on inside the building. Xander was fairly certain the old gang would use it to find him.

All Xander had to do was extend his senses and he could identify each member of the so-called strike team working the outside perimeter. Buffy, of course; didn't take too much gray matter to figure she populated the group. Willow. Probably their ace in the hole in the way of power and her personal connection to Xander. Too bad he didn't have a pretty yellow crayon angle she could work. Faith was out there, too. Xander smiled. It would be interesting to find out how she'd handle the next fifteen minutes. Very, interesting indeed…

Angel was up on the roof, looking in through the skylight and waiting for Buff to give the word. Xander knew the Scoobi found him through Angel's new resources at Wolfram and Hart, Anya's info sharing being somewhat limited because of the rules she was subject to. Buffy wanted to handle this in-house, but Angel insisted on joining up as payment. Xander was truly looking forward to shooting the breeze with old deadness… as one champion to another.

Four Legionnaires hung back with Woody, the super principal, and Andrew, acting as back up. Xander was scared, for sure. Last, and certainly least, Giles was outside, right behind his slayer.

Xander deftly cut the cards with just the fingers of his right hand before setting the deck aside on top of the desk. He pulled the lap-top also resting on the desk closer. Xander had taken the liberty of scanning in a mess of holy texts a few years ago, none of the stuff written by men, though. The screen displayed several windows of the ancient writings, which Xander had felt the need to go over one more time before his spirit, or soul, if you will, finally overwhelmed his physical being. He knew he was golden, but Xander liked the anal retentive approach.

Xander closed down each window… there was nothing to do now but wait. In the meantime, Xander clicked on a game icon on the screen. A small window appeared, showing the beginnings of a game of Solitaire. The perfect way to wile away the time until the real entertainment arrived, then shortly after, god-hood. Should be an exciting night.

* * *

The nighttime sky and the stars spied down on the small contingent as they plodded through the narrow paths between Xander's warehouse and the surrounding warehouses. Willow trailed behind Buffy, and Giles brought up the rear. Dragon's breath trailing after them while they moved with careful steps. The new coats they wore protected them from the snapping cold of the unfamiliar geography. Alien, at least to the two young California women.

Willow masked their presence just in case any nasty surprises waited for them. Not that she believed one word Anya said about Xander. Willow would know if Xander was dangerous, her more than anyone. She'd been connected to every living creature on Earth, for Pete's sake! Xander included.

Plus, Giles said if Xander possessed even a minute amount of supernatural power the annihilation spell she focused through Proserpexa's effigy would have destroyed him instantly. Xander no go boom, so no supernatural Xander. But Buffy and Giles decided to play it safe, much to Willow's consternation. Xander's taciturn disappearance after Sunnydale collapsed in on itself (Willow admits that was weird) and now Anya coming back from the dead to tell them he was planning an ascension to put the Mayor's to shame, made Slayer and Watcher very nervous.

"Angel?" Buffy whispered into the headset clipped behind the shell of her right ear as she, Willow, and Giles slipped through the darkness.

"I see light at the back of the warehouse," Willow heard Angel's reply in her headset. Angel passed out sets to each of them before they left the Teleport chamber in Wolfram and Hart's Vancouver branch. "Everything else is dark. I hear intermittent clicking. Maybe a computer mouse."

"Gotta be Xander," Willow said, frozen breath pouring from her nose and mouth. "'Cause we all know what a computer fiend he is."

"Come on, Will," Buffy said with an exasperated sigh.

"Why am I the only one who thinks Anya—if that was her real name—is exaggerating? Just because he disappeared doesn't mean he's gone insane! I mean, who can blame Xander for taking some time for himself after everything that's happened?"

"Willow, we understand your reluctance to believe Anya's claims, but you confirmed she was Anya and not the First in disguise," Giles said. "Do you have any reason to believe she was anything other than candid?

"No, but--"

"No buts, Willow, we don't have time," Buffy interrupted. "Angel, we're going in ninety seconds. Be ready."

"Got it."

"Faith?"

"Whatcha want?"

"Eighty seconds."

"I-firmative." Faith would bust in through the freight doors she located at the rear of the warehouse.

Buffy, Willow, and Giles stalked towards the front door quietly as possible. Sixty seconds later, the three crouched outside the metal sheet with a round metal knob, which acted as the front entrance. Buffy slowly reached for the knob, and shot a surprised glance at Giles and Willow when it turned freely—unlocked. Giles blinked and Willow shrugged, neither had a relevant response. But the easiness of broaching the warehouse only decreased Willow's belief Xander was inside, poised for evil, because it stands to reason he'd have better locks for his lair.

"Angel, Faith—Now!" Buffy intoned into her headset, and then in a wave they rushed inside the building. The light Angel mentioned remained unseen from their location. The warehouse, Willow sensed, though spacious, felt full.

Quietly concocting a Sight spell, Willow enhanced her eyes until her night vision rivaled Angel's. Noting the warmer temperature, Willow pulled back the fur-lined hood to her parka and surveyed the warehouse. She saw a twisting maze of metal shelves reaching as high as twenty feet, yet the ceiling rose another fifteen. Willow wondered, concerned, if Angel could handle that kind of height. They continued to trek through the warehouse, searching for signs of Xander.

Willow discerned the light first, then Buffy and Giles and they immediately headed towards its location. They were closing in when Angel met up with them. When the four reached the light they found Faith, her back was to them. In front of her stood Xander. He was talking animatedly to her.

"…Oh, you know, this and that…" Xander took his gleeful eye from Faith and watched them approach. "Buffy! Willow! Good to see you."

Willow, diverted by the appearance of her friend, failed to notice Giles being lumped into the same disregard category as Angel. Xander was wearing a crisp white dress shirt tucked tightly into the waistband of his black trousers. The black tie around his neck was loosened under the collar of the shirt. Xander's face was clean-shaven, and somewhat pale. He could have gone for the typical white-bread executive look if not for the out growth of his dark hair, which hung long and curly over his forehead down to his eyebrows, and completely hid his ears. The black eye patch over what used to be his left eye didn't foster a clean-cut image either.

Willow understood right away it wasn't Xander's attire that felt strange to her, she'd seen him dressed similarly once or twice before when he attended business meetings. The unusualness was Xander looked happy. He smiled with an easy manner she hadn't seen from him since before his and Anya's failed wedding. Maybe… maybe even well before then… Willow didn't return either Xander's grin, or his greeting. Neither did Buffy. Willow wasn't sure, though, if Buffy remained staid because Xander's demeanor unnerved her as it had Willow, or if Buffy didn't like how dismissive Xander was in face of her hard expression.

When did Xander looking cheerful become so alarming? Willow wondered.

"Wish we could say the same, Xand," Buffy replied.

"I wish I could say I'm shocked," Xander said, grinning still. "I guess you've heard I been up to no good?"

"Xander, if ever there was a time not to make jokes…"

Xander's right eyebrow arched high. "I'm not making with the funny, to tell you the truth. Nope, no jokes do I tell. I'm talking to the jokes, actually," he said.

Willow didn't know why or exactly when it started, but she was shaking.

"The hell!" Faith shouted. "Who the fuck ya callin' a joke?"

Xander let his eye flick back to Faith. "Well, pawns would probably be a better classification, but I thought, hey, why rub it in?"

* * *

Xander watched with mild amusement when Faith's face turned beet-red and her hands squeeze into fists just before she swung at his face. He may have found her reaction more humorous had it not been so predictable. Her fist struck the reflective barrier encircling his position and she was knocked backwards. Angel responded swiftly, he caught her in midair and prevented her flight down the pathway Buffy and the others took to reach Xander. Despite Angel's strength, Faith's velocity still caused them to crash to the floor in a tangled heap.

"Angel! Faith!" Buffy yelled before turning a vicious glare Xander's way. "So… it's true. What Anya told us."

"As she understands it, yep."

"I don't believe it," Giles whispered.

"Believe it, aged guy," Xander replied.

"So, you're gonna be God, huh?" Angel asked as he and Faith rose to their feet. _Ahh, to be super human_. "I wouldn't put too much stock in divinity if I were you. Gods can be killed."

Xander smiled an even bigger smile and waved away the vampire's remark. "I don't think it's fair to compare. Jasmine was merely… adequate for a goddess," Xander said. He had to bite his lower lip to keep from laughing when he saw Angel's eyes bug-out and his jaw drop.

"And I assure you I don't have a surly barely legal father out there ready to punch a hole through my head the second my back is turned."

"How did…?" Angel started to ask.

"Ah, now we're delving into those details Anya left out of her tattling," Xander interrupted, wagging his forefinger. "Sure you really wanna know?"

Except Willow, everyone watched Angel, sensing his growing distress. Willow remained focused on Xander, her impressive mind calculating at a furious pace. Xander ignored her stare, however, content to allow her to reach her own conclusions. He wouldn't have to spell out the influences he's had over her life these past six years—the last two in particular. Willow is a smart girl—the smartingest, as he used to call her when they were young.

"What do you know, you bastard?" Angel ground out between, oddly enough, square, non-pointy teeth, considering the growl Xander heard wallowing in Angel's chest.

"I thought it was a secret?" Xander asked. "The deal was he never existed or no-go, wasn't it? You want me to undo the enchantment? 'Cause I can." Xander narrowed his gaze at Angel, his voice going low. "With a word. With a name."

Angel and Xander held each other's stare. Xander's eyes did not waver. "No," Angel finally replied, averting his eyes.

Xander nodded. "Good. Now, mind yourself while I have a conversation with my buds."

"Okay!" Xander exclaimed, startling all attention back onto him. "You guys are here for an explanation, right?" he asked, grinning brightly. No one spoke; most of them too off-balance after witnessing Xander and Angel's ambiguous conversation. Xander clapped his hands together. "Awesome! Then away we go!"


	4. 4

Title: Long Term

Disclaimer: Don't own nothin' like BtVS.

Spoilers: BtVS S1-7

Summery: Xander's still shifty-like…

* * *

Long Term

"I won't start at the beginning, time constraints you understand, so I'll give ya the bullet points version instead. Now don't be afraid to ask questions, I'll be introducing new and strange concepts that you all might not grasp right away. So, you know, speak up, and remember: there are no stupid questions."

"Oh, you bastard!" Buffy whispered venomously.

"Buffy, Buffy, Buff! Don't be like that, I'm just trying to communicate with you on a level you can easily comprehend."

"Asshole," Faith growled.

Xander shrugged and said, " I prefer, "That Which is Above All." But, okay, asshole works, too."

Xander hopped back and landed on top of the table, swinging his feet onto the seat of the chair. He hunched over and let his forearms rest on his thighs and clasped his hands together. The levity on his expression muted before he went on to say in a much more subdued tone of voice.

"I told them… I told them I'd die for them, and I'd kill for them. I was thirteen-years-old… can you, any of you, comprehend the gravity of such a thing coming from a kid?"

"Who are they?" Willow asked.

"The Powers," Angel answered, no doubt in an attempt to look smarter than he was.

"Right, boyo!" Xander exclaimed. A curled upper lip and silent snarl was Angel's response.

"The same guys Angel works for?" Faith asked.

"The very same forces Angel served faithfully like a little puppy for the past four years." Man, making fun of Angel… it never gets old!

"I'm sure you didn't let us find you just so you could mock Angel," Willow said gravely, her eyes searching Xander's face with unwavering intensity.

Xander smiled. "You'd be surprised," he said. "But you're right, I didn't, and you go girl for figuring that out… you know, the letting you find me part."

Xander took his gaze from Willow and surveyed the rest of the group. "Like I said, I worked for the PTB's, I basically helped take care of their more volatile problems like mini-apocalypses and the odd "oh, shit! That wasn't supposed to happen!" situations. I was a part of a very exclusive club-a group of warriors called the Last Line of Defense. Hokey, I know, but hey, humanity was barely sentient when the program started so the Powers got to name us a bit too literally."

"Are you saying there is line of mystical warriors other than Slayers?" Giles asked, the alarm and fascination in his voice was apparent.

"Your astuteness continues to shock and overwhelm me, Giles," Xander said. "Can someone smarter please pose you guys' questions?" Xander's open derision was deliberate and biting.

Giles face flushed red all over. "Excuse me?" he asked sharply.

Xander's right eye twinkled and he said, "Love to, but I don't think Buffy would like if I sent you to the farthest reaches of the planet. Now, can someone ask an intelligent question?"

"Why did they pick you?" Willow asked, stepping forward, effectively preventing Giles from verbally expressing his growing outrage, outrage that was having its way with the lines in his face.

"I'd like to say it was because I was special, all once in a generation, and only I could yak, yak, yak, but that wouldn't be true. There are actually several dozen Last Liners operating at any given time, and the only thing all of us—they—have in common that makes them qualified to protect the world is that at one point or another they all decided, sub-consciously or consciously, there are some things worth more than their lives. Almost anyone can become a Last Liner if they have no sense of self-preservation."

"They chose you because you're a good person," Willow replied carefully.

Xander arched his left eyebrow at her in response. Then after a moment he said, "Certainly you don't think that's going to work, do you? Sorry, Willow, I'm afraid we're a little past the point where appealing to my humanity is going to turn me around."

Willow tried to smile and for the first time since she'd confronted him tears spilled from her eyes. "That doesn't mean I can't try."

"Mmm…" Xander stared at Willow curiously, then after a moment he shrugged indifferently. He said, "Go right ahead then, if it makes you feel better.

"Civil war," Xander continued abruptly after he took his eye off Willow, "after I discovered there could be more than one Slayer, civil war became my golden ticket."

"Huh?" Buffy asked. "I think you skipped over some parts."

"I told you, Buffy, bullet points, otherwise I won't get to the nitty-gritty before I leave. That, and Willow might get lucky and actually bust down my barrier, then I'd have to engage in some tedious free for all with you guys. Which is not something I'm interested in doing, so…"

Willow tensed and behind her the others glanced at each other apprehensively. Xander rolled his eye, this time at their arrogance. Like they'd keep this get together civil for any other reason than to bide time—not a big group of conversationalists these people are.

_"Okay, what now?" Buffy thought telepathically at the others._

_"Keep him talking," Angel replied telepathically as well. "Willow might still be able to break down his protective shield."_

_"Don't mean to sound like a complete pussy, but we need to get Robin and the others down here in case she does. This asshole's gonna be a problem if we do get to him," Faith added._

_"Willow?"_

_"What is it, Buffy?" Willow answered, even telepathically those connected to her heard how distracted she was._

_"Keep your head in the game, Red," Faith thought at the witch._

_"Faith's right, Will, stay focused. Can you break through Xander's shield?" Buffy asked._

_"I… I think so, with enough time."_

_"Good, but be careful. Open a link to Robin's group," Buffy requested._

_Willow complied, expanding her magically enhanced thoughts to reach out and encompass the group outside the warehouse._

_"All we need 'ta do now is keep this asshole talk-"_

"So, anyway, I guess maybe I can give you a little more background without prattling on _too_ much," Xander said, grinning from ear to ear. Causing the group to exchange more nervous glances. They wondered if Xander somehow tapped their telepathic communication and was he toying with them. Xander's grin only grew more brilliant.

"Okay, it's like this: for three years I was the primary guardian of the Hellmouth. Did a good job, too, if I do say so myself." Xander turned his gaze onto Buffy alone, not quite glaring but there was something in his eye that made Angel, Giles, and Faith move a little closer the superfluous Slayer. "Then Buffy came and I was… I guess you can say I was sidelined."

"Are you telling me you went ape shit because you got fired?" Angel asked. "I always knew you were a petulant little brat, Xander, but _that_ goes beyond the pale!"

"Listen more carefully, boyo, I said sidelined. Put on the bench. Bench warmer. Utility Guy. Placed on hiatus on super hero prime time. But not fired, in fact I bet right now the Powers That Be are wishing they had pink slipped my ass. None of _this_ would be happening. They wouldn't be facing oblivion."

The light bulb hanging overhead began to flicker, casting a strobe-like effort throughout the surrounding area before blinking out completely.

"What are you doing, Xander?" Buffy asked, her voice sopping with suspicion. She and the others-except Willow-clustered even closer together. Xander smiled at them through the darkness.

"I think visual aids are in order. Don't sweat it! I mean it's not like there are zombies or earth-demons lurching towards you. No offense, Will."

Xander watched Angel look around, his vampire enhanced vision adapting to the darkness more quickly than the Slayer's, who were spinning in circles trying to locate any danger coming at them with their other senses. "There aren't," Angel confirmed before turning his careful gaze to Xander, where upon his eyes narrowed with absolute hatred. But an instant later Angel's eyes widened when he noticed their surroundings—the metal shelves and their burden, the warehouse itself—fading away.

"What are you doing?" Faith asked, her vision having penetrated the blackness finally.

"Taking you guys back. Way back to six years ago. To the night after Buffy destroyed the Master, when Hageos tried to finish what ol' bat-face started…"

"You're lying," Giles declared.

"I am?"

"I know you are. Hageos has been dead for five hundred years."

"Do tell, oh, Wise Man," Xander said sardonically enough that Giles didn't have to see the mocking smirk plastered across his face to know it was there. "Explain to me the ways of the world."

"Ah, well, not much in known about Hageos other than he almost subjugated all of humanity with his hellish armies. He was feared for his mastery over death magics and insatiable need to butcher humans." Giles voice rose and he puffed out his chest, full of pride—well, certainly full of something, Xander mused. "He was eventually brought down by an earlier incarnation of the Watchers and-"

"Unimorei Sokkoi, the Vampire Slayer," Xander finished. "Good to know you can still regurgitate textbook history lessons on fly, Giles."

From the look on his face Giles was shocked Xander knew the revered Slayer's name, but Xander didn't allow Giles or anyone a chance to ask more questions, exerting his will he slowly lit the ebon. Willow kept her eyes on Xander while he continued to appraise her friends with obvious superiority—the kind of superiority that only came when you felt in complete control—while he disregarded her. Then, suddenly, his illusion flared and crystallized into images, bringing with them an assault of sounds and smells. It took only seconds for Buffy, Giles, Faith, and Angel to recognize their new environment. It was the Bronze.

Willow refused to take her eyes off of Xander.

They stood in the middle of the dance floor, kids Buffy remembered from Sunnydale High crowded in and danced, many of them gyrating right through the incursion group like careless ghost. "You won't remember this particular night as anything special, Giles," Xander said, his voice carrying above the loud music and energetic chatter issuing from the Bronze's young patrons.

Xander appeared to be floating in an invisible chair above the dance floor as he surveyed the Bronze with a bored expression. "You weren't with us. Not that it would have mattered if you had been, Buffy and Willow didn't retain any memories of that night either." Xander pointed through the phantom crowd. "You see, there we are," he said, now directing their attention to the far end of the nightspot.

The so-called strike team faced the direction Xander's finger pointed in, even Willow turned to see what he wanted to show them. On cue the crowd parted and revealed an area bordering the dance floor. Xander sensed Buffy's and the rest's surprise, but only from Willow did he sense the ache of nostalgia when her gaze found them.

The three of them: Buffy, Willow and Xander sitting together at a small table that could barely seat the trio. If they were uncomfortable the teenage versions of the now older, wiser, guiltier Scoobies appeared not to mind. In fact, they laughed and conversed with verve and ease.

Xander sighed. "Man, look at me," he said, "I was so pretty."


End file.
